They say time heals all wounds, personally, I think time eventually trivializes our issues, making wounds less hurtful.
I’ve been thinking about my “wounds” lately and how I’d forgotten most of them or how I came to have them.
Why am I afraid to say that I’m in a good place? it almost feels wrong to admit that I don’t hurt anymore. I don’t want to jinx it perhaps. I’m not afraid of change, in fact I welcome it – I just don’t want to have to acknowledge change sometimes. It’s sad, I know but that’s how I am.
I thought about our conversation a little while afterwards. How we reminisced about the past; “we’ve come a long way, baby!” she said.
I tried to remember the pain, the hurt, the screams, yells and worse of all the disappointments. It was all irrelevant now, time had made it so.
Time, I hope has made me less of the self-righteous judgmental person
I was.

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